Slip of the Hand
by sincerelymendacious
Summary: An unexpected event occurs while Elka is making dinner for her boyfriend.


"Ahh-"

Surprise, more than pain, elicited the startled gasp from Elka's mouth. She set her knife down and removed her hand from the half of the onion that she had been dicing up. There, right on her index finger- a small, diagonal line right across her fingertip. Elka watched, transfixed, as the blood welled up and turned the pale cut red.

Her hand must have slipped. Admittedly, her attention hadn't been wholly focused on the onion; she'd been listening to Maloof answer her front door when the knife had sliced her finger. Last night she had seen herself chopping onions while Maloof dealt with the delivery man. In truth, the entirety of this night was something that was already known to her- she and Maloof would have a nice, home-cooked meal, and then they would sit down to watch the Godfather before going to bed together a little bit after midnight.

Injuring herself, however, had not been a part of her vision. The cut was shallow and only stung a little bit; a minor annoyance that Elka should not have found as fascinating as she did. She rubbed her thumb over the bleeding cut experimentally, smearing the blood, the pressure of her thumb on the wound turning the sting into a sharp burn.

Contentment. Pleasure. Slight irritation that the chicken breasts she had baked had come out a little dry. Those were the emotions she had expected to feel tonight. This pain, and the sight of the red blood trickling down her white hand, was completely unexpected and all the more thrilling for it. Again, she pressed down on the cut, savoring this small deviation from the predicted course of events.

She was so entranced that she didn't hear Maloof enter the kitchen or catch what he said to her as he came in, and in fact, hadn't realized that he had come in until she felt his hand on her hip. "Where do you want this?" he asked, referring to the small package that he held in his other hand, gazing at her in that adoring, puppy-like way that he had as he waited for her answer. Then he caught sight of it, either the cut itself or the bloody mess that she had made of her hand, still held reverently in front of her face. "Oh shit!" he cursed stepping back in shock. "I…oh- are you okay?" he stammered as he tossed the package carelessly onto the kitchen table. "What happened?"

"I cut myself," she replied quietly. A drop of blood had reached the sleeve of her blouse, a small blotch spreading out on the blue fabric. "My hand must have slipped." She pulled her sleeve up toward her elbow, in order to avoid staining it further.

One would think that she had just been disemboweled from the queasy look on Maloof's face. Violence and blood was something that he could handle from a safe distance, but at this range even an injury as mild as this one was enough to turn his face sheet-white. And yet, he still took her hand in his, his fingers soft and warm, and looked the cut over, uncertainty and concern in his eyes. Elka kept her gaze on his face as he swallowed thickly. "That, uh, it doesn't look too bad," he said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. He glanced up at her hopefully. "It doesn't need stitches?"

Elka smiled down at him affectionately. "No, it doesn't."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, that's good." His eyes flitted around the room nervously for a moment before landing on the kitchen sink. "Let's uh, we should probably clean that."

Elka allowed him to lead her over to the sink, thoroughly amused. This small cut was certainly something that she could have handled on her own, but she let Maloof take charge anyway. She was curious (an emotion that she hadn't felt in a long, long while) to see what Maloof would do next, and was thoroughly enjoying the way he was fussing over her. He, too, was probably enjoying this chance to take care of her as well, even if that enjoyment was buried underneath his worry and nervousness.

Maloof gently put her hand under the running water, the warm stream clearing the blood off of her skin and giving her temporary relief from the sting. "Where do you keep your band-aids?" Maloof asked once her hand was clean.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom," she replied as she dried her arm off with a paper towel. "Medicine cabinet." Maloof sped off to retrieve it, moving faster than she had ever seen him. She stifled a laugh- he really was taking this much too seriously, and it was so cute.

He was back seconds later, two bandages in hand. Carefully, he tore the packaging off, but paused before removing the band-aid. "Do you think we need to put Neosporin on that or something?"

Elka looked down at her finger. The cut was not bleeding as badly as it had been, and it appeared to be clean enough. "No, its fine," she said as she held her hand out to him expectantly.

Maloof slipped the rest of the paper off of the bandage and placed his hand under hers. Slowly, he wrapped it around her finger, taking great care to position it correctly. The expression on his face was one of deep concentration, his brows furrowed and his tongue peeking out between his lips. He looked so cute, and so determined that she wanted to reach out and pinch his cheek, or pull hard at one of his auburn curls.

His face suddenly turned red- he must have picked up on her devious thoughts. "Is…uh, is this too tight?" he asked, voice a little strained.

"No," Elka said, bringing her other hand up to his hair. She tugged playfully at his curls, her nails scraping against his scalp. "It's just right."

According to her vision, she was not supposed to kiss Maloof until 9:47, about three hours from now. Fate, however, seemed open to minor alterations tonight, and Elka decided that she would take as much advantage of it as she could. Wordlessly, she pushed Maloof against the counter and tipped his head upward, her bandaged finger on his chin. She leaned down so that their lips could meet, her slender body pressing against his shorter, softer frame. He froze, surprised- spontaneous kisses weren't common for her- but quickly regained his composure, sliding his tongue into her mouth and his hands down her body. He tasted faintly of wine, the flavor similar to the stuff that she'd been using to cook their dinner. Had he snuck some while she wasn't looking? Naughty boy. Elka punished him by nipping at his lip, lightly at first, then harder, hard enough to make him whine and clutch tightly at her blouse.

They broke apart soon after, him flushed and breathless, her smiling teasingly. He brought his fingers to his lips, touching the spot where she had bitten him. "Wow," he said, dazed. "Where did that come from?"

Elka shrugged, walking back over to her knife and her onion. "Spur of the moment," she said as she resumed her previous task of slicing the onion.


End file.
